


can you be the raft in the eye of the storm?

by Ethereally



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Background Sylvixgrid if you squint really hard, Canon Compliant, Carrying, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: "Are you stupid? We cannot lose you. Go back to your room or I'll carry you there myself."Felix and Sylvain spar shortly after their A+ support, and Felix realizes Sylvain was downplaying his injury. And for once, Sylvain struggles to find the words he'd like to say.





	can you be the raft in the eye of the storm?

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [risk by metric](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uly3S2KjUf4). 
> 
> thanks to [indevan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan) for giving me the idea, and for beta-reading this for me! couldn't have done it without you.

The infirmary was an all-too familiar sight at this point, but at least he was being examined on the doctor's chair instead of lying in bed. Sylvain's chest still felt tight and there was no ignoring the dull, throbbing pain in his ribcage, but Manuela had taken a quick glance at him, then at his charts, and said, "You're cleared for field duty." 

Her tone was uncharacteristically brusque; Sylvain bit the inside of his cheek. There was no point in asking Manuela why she was letting him off so soon. He already knew her answer: the Kingdom army was short on men. Rations were getting sparse, no matter how many fish the Professor caught for them on her time off, and morale was at an all-time low. Sylvain was just another general, would be just another statistic if he died, and the very thought made him feel like his insides had turned to ice. Yet it was easy for him to swallow the lump in his throat and squeeze out a smile. 

"Well, see you on the battlefield."

He shut the door behind him, trying his best to ignore the pit of snakes that, in the last few minutes, had sprung alive in his stomach. The voice in his head was whispering  _ at least you'll see Miklan in hell _ repeatedly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to  _ shut up, shut up _ . Sylvain didn't regret jumping in front of that Fimbulvetr spell for Felix. But for all the times where he'd toyed with the idea of his life ending as a fun thought exercise, he was starting to find that he didn't actually want to die. 

A familiar voice jolted him out of his thoughts. 

"Combat-ready, I hear?" 

Sylvain whipped around only to see Felix leaning against the wall outside the infirmary, arms folded, an eyebrow raised. Sylvain's easy smile fumbled its way back to his face.

"So it seems," he said, hoping that he sounded somewhat convincing. 

Felix clicked his tongue, which was the closest thing to a "thank the goddess" that he was ever going to get out of him. Sylvain chuckled.

"What were you doing listening in on a private medical checkup? Manuela and I could have been discussing confidential health information. Unless, of course, you were worried about me?"

Sylvain wasn't entirely certain, but he could have sworn that he saw the tips of Felix's ears turn pink. Felix didn't address the question. Instead, he grabbed a training lance that had been lying next to him.

"Catch," he said, flinging the lance in Sylvain's direction. Sylvain yelped, dancing out of the way of the weapon; it fell on the ground with a loud  _ clang _ . His eyes widened. 

"Hey! What was that for?"

Felix sighed. "Didn't you hear me? I said catch. We're going to train, since you're ready to fight again."

"Wait, seriously?"

Before Sylvain could say any more, Felix was already marching off, headed towards the west of the monastery where the training grounds lay. There was no arguing with Felix when he was being stubborn like this. Sylvain reached down to grab the lance, sprinting after Felix as quickly as he could muster until he caught up. "Is- is anyone else going to be there?"

Felix's response was curt and cold as ice. "No."

Any semi-intelligent response that Sylvain may have had fizzled out in his throat. Sylvain hadn't been alone with Felix since they had that conversation in his room a couple of days ago (about the promise they'd made as children, to die together, on the same day) and he'd had plenty of time to reflect on it since. He'd overanalyzed every moment of that conversation, played it over and over again in his mind. Felix's furrowed brow, the panic in his voice. The sigh of relief that escaped his lips when he realized Sylvain was safe. 

Sylvain thought about how Felix had yanked him in closer by the shirt, eyes wide with concern as he'd called him the biggest fool in Fódlan. How their faces had been so close to touching when Felix had declared that he almost wanted to hug him--  _ almost,  _ but not actually. How Sylvain had to fight the urge to pull him in anyway. How he'd had to resist the temptation to wrap his arms around Felix, to bury his face in the crook of his childhood friend's neck. A flush crossed Sylvain's cheeks. Now he was definitely grateful that Felix's back was turned away from him; Sylvain might have been a flirt, but the idea of processing genuine romantic feelings was a completely foreign concept. 

He wouldn't have any idea how to even begin broaching the subject. Sylvain had known for a while by now that he was bi, and his friends probably knew as well, seeing as they'd likely heard about his trysts with people of various genders. So that wasn't the issue: the issue was the looming war, and the fact that death lurked at every corner, waiting to pounce. And this was Felix who he realized he'd had feelings for. Felix, who'd built a fragile front around the image of a long-dead brother because he couldn't process his grief, whose attempts to express his emotions manifested in snarling shadows of what he really meant. 

Sylvain couldn't die on him, and he couldn't risk getting even closer to Felix lest he did. He clenched the lance so tightly his knuckles went white, and the rest of their walk was spent in relative silence. The afternoon sun was scorching, but it wasn't the heat that burned the back of Sylvain's neck. 

The two of them reached the training grounds with little fanfare. Felix unlatched the door, and Sylvain was surprised to see that they were the only ones there: it wasn't uncommon to find their fellow soldiers scattered around even though it was a weekend. Felix unsheathed his sword, eyes steeled in determination.

"Give me your best shot."

Sylvain lifted his lance, charging towards Felix. Steel clashed against steel, and Sylvain found himself reentering the fray of battle.

  
  
  


It was no surprise that Felix trounced Sylvain round after round. Other than the fact that Felix had always trained harder and fought more intensely, Sylvain still hadn't quite fully recovered from his injuries. His movements were clumsy, and his fire magic waned and flickered as Sylvain attempted to cast spells. In contrast, Felix's actions were swift and lithe, light on his feet, stronger and faster than Sylvain had ever seen him. There was absolutely no match. Sylvain's breath hitched in his lungs, and he fell to the floor after half an hour or so, panting.

"Hey," he said, raising a hand in defeat, "Mind if we take a break?"

Felix frowned. "I thought it was just a small cut."

Nevertheless, he sheathed his sword, marching up towards Sylvain and staring down at him. A strange, unfamiliar sensation twisted in Sylvain's chest, and he couldn't tell if it was butterflies or wasps. "Have you forgotten how to fight?"

Sylvain felt like he'd been stabbed in the chest. How was he supposed to protect anyone if he was in this state?

"Maybe," he laughed bitterly. "I don't know, Felix. I still feel like sh--"

"Discharged too early," Felix spat. "You were hit with an ice spell. Your veins haven't recovered from the shock." 

For someone who'd never been book-smart, Felix was surprisingly quick at putting things together. Sylvain sighed, hanging his head in defeat.

"Yeah," he said. "Desperate times, desperate measures, huh?" 

(Wasn't relying on Sylvain of all people was a sign of desperation in itself?)

Felix snorted, and Sylvain couldn't tell if he was laughing or being dismissive. He smiled weakly, hoping that Felix would drop the subject; maybe Felix would dismiss him, and Sylvain could go back to his room, stare at the ceiling, and feel like even more of a disappointment than he ever had. Silence fell between them for a short while before Felix spoke again. 

"We can't afford to lose you," he said, reaching out a hand to help Sylvain up. "Go back and rest."

"Felix, I--" Sylvain started. "Manuela said--"

"Then she doesn't know what she's talking about," Felix hissed, and his eyes narrowed with anger-- rage-- concern? Fuck, Sylvain couldn't tell. He wasn't sure if the ringing in his ears was from lightheadedness or something else entirely. "We aren't going out to battle for another week. I'll get one of the foot soldiers to act as general in your place if you still aren't fully recovered. Go back to your room or I'll carry you there myself." 

Sylvain managed a weak laugh. Funny that Felix was mother henning him, when this was normally his or Ingrid's job. He took the outstretched hand nevertheless, getting up on his feet. "Felix, I don't know if we can spare tha--" 

"Are you stupid?  _ We cannot lose you _ ." One of Felix's arms wrapped itself around his lower back, and another around the back of Sylvain's knees. Before Sylvain could react, Felix hoisted Sylvain to his chest, glaring at him as he scooped him up in a bridal carry. 

Sylvain's eyes shot open wide, and his face blushed bright red. "H- hey!"

It was almost romantic. Or at least, this was just about as romantic as Felix could muster. A pang of guilt surged through Sylvain as he realized that this was the worst time to be thinking about his dumb crush: when they'd both been hit with the crushing realization of Sylvain's mortality, and discussed his impending death that may or may not have loomed in the not-so-far distance. Yet here Sylvain was, blushing like a giddy schoolgirl, thinking about how close his face now was to Felix's. In peacetime, there would have been no question-- Sylvain would lean in closer, sealing the space between them with a kiss. 

Or maybe not. The thumping sound of his heart against his chest was too difficult to decipher. Maybe Sylvain would have been reduced to a stuttering puddle, like he had been with Ingrid at the stables the other night. But they were at war, and much as Sylvain didn't want to die, it could be an inevitability. Felix had said it himself; he wasn't about to go down with Sylvain. And the last thing Sylvain wanted to do was to saddle Felix with even more hurt. Goddess knew he'd been through enough of that already. 

Felix began making his way out of the training grounds, Sylvain's training lance lying askew on the ground. Sylvain thought about burying his face in Felix's chest so he could listen to his heartbeat, but decided against it, choosing to wrapping his arms around Felix's neck for balance instead. The last thing he wanted was to set Felix off, especially given how tense things were. 

Felix carried him through the courtyard, and then up the stairs. Sylvain barely registered the staring and murmurs from the rest of the army, and almost missed the giggle and wink Mercedes gave him as they waltzed past her. They turned a corner up the spiral staircase towards the second-floor dormitories, and that was when Felix broke the silence between them. 

"You're awfully quiet for once. Cat got your tongue?"

"Huh?" Sylvain said, gaping in shock. "I-- I'm fine. Just thinking to myself, that's all."

"You're beating yourself up, aren't you?" There Felix was again with that razor-sharp precision, and Sylvain felt like he'd just shot a Thoron spell through him. "Stop that. I wasn't lying when I said you were reliable, you know. Do I need to spell it out? We can't--  _ I _ can't lose you."

A chill shot through Sylvain. He didn't hate how that felt. "T- that's--" Where were the words when he needed them? Maybe he'd wasted them on petty dalliances and meaningless platitudes. "That's surprisingly forward for you," he somehow managed to sputter out, "This time, do I actually get a hug?"

"Don't push it," Felix said. They'd arrived at the end of the corridor where Sylvain's room lay, and Felix bent down slightly, hissing as he tried to maneuver Sylvain's door open with his elbow. Sylvain laughed, reaching out and turning the doorknob open by himself. 

The door clicked open, and Felix barged in, dropping Sylvain on his bed with an unceremonious  _ thud _ . Felix heaved a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "You're heavier than you look."

"That seemed pretty effortless for you." 

"Not everyone has your natural talent. Are you going to just lie there, or do you need me to take your shoes off for you and tuck you in?" 

Sylvain swung around so he was sitting next to Felix, bending down to untie his boots. "Very funny. Thanks for that, by the way." He smiled down at Felix. "I promise I won't die on you. I mean it."

"I'll help you keep that oath." Felix gave Sylvain a rare smile back. The strange, fluttering sensation returned to his chest, and he could confirm that it was definitely butterflies this time. This moment was almost too tender for Sylvain to guilt himself over it. He gently, tentatively inched his hand closer towards Felix's, just like he might have when they were kids; surprisingly, Felix took the cue, lacing his fingers into Sylvain's. 

By now, Sylvain's heartbeat was so loud that it was ringing in his ears. He gave Felix's hand a gentle squeeze. Somehow, he managed to muster up the words: 

"The rest of our lives, together, huh?"

Felix's eyes didn't meet his, but he squeezed Sylvain's hand back. 

"That might be nice."

**Author's Note:**

> me: haha there's enough sylvix content out there so i don't need to write it. i can just write my rarepairs in peace  
friend: is in a rough spot and rps the perfect felix to my sylvain  
me: AO3 USER ETHEREALLY TO THE RESCUE, GUESS I'M WRITING YOU SYLVIX I HOPE THIS CHEERS YOU UP LUNA I WUV YOU SO MUCH 
> 
> anyway felix is bi and trans, sylvain is bi, and that's my ted talk!


End file.
